The English Language in Its Elements and Forms: With a History of Its Origin and Development : Designed for Use in Colleges and Schools (Google eBook)

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Harper & Brothers, 1855 - English language - 754 pages
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Contents

I
33
II
54
III
76
IV
93
V
109
VI
130
VII
141
VIII
156
XXVIII
359
XXIX
369
XXX
374
XXXI
381
XXXII
384
XXXIII
467
XXXIV
470
XXXV
481

IX
160
X
165
XI
169
XII
173
XIII
182
XIV
189
XV
199
XVI
204
XVII
214
XVIII
217
XIX
222
XX
224
XXI
237
XXII
242
XXIII
263
XXV
275
XXVI
278
XXVII
304
XXXVI
496
XXXVII
511
XXXVIII
517
XXXIX
535
XL
557
XLI
581
XLII
609
XLIII
614
XLIV
619
XLV
629
XLVI
633
XLVII
644
XLVIII
657
XLIX
670
L
694
LI
697
LII
709
LIII
722

Common terms and phrases

Popular passages

Page 683 - I see before me the Gladiator lie ; He leans upon his hand his manly brow Consents to death, but conquers agony. And his droop'd head sinks gradually low, And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow From the red gash, fall heavy one by one, Like the first of a thunder-shower ; and now The arena swims around him he is gone Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hailed the wretch who won.
Page 678 - Besides, this Duncan Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been So clear in his great office, that his virtues Will plead like angels trumpet-tongued against The deep damnation of his taking-off; And pity, like a naked new-born babe, Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubim horsed Upon the sightless couriers of the air, Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye, That tears shall drown the wind.
Page 106 - He hath made every thing beautiful in his time: also he hath set the world in their heart, so that no man can find out the work that God maketh from the beginning to the end.
Page 162 - Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green, That host with their banners at sunset were seen: Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown, That host on the morrow lay withered and strown. For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast, And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed...
Page 734 - I care not, fortune, what you me deny : You cannot rob me of free nature's grace ; You cannot shut the windows of the sky, Through which Aurora shows her brightening face ; You cannot bar my constant feet to trace The woods and lawns, by living stream, at eve Let health my nerves and finer fibres brace, And I their toys to the great children leave : Of fancy, reason, virtue, nought can me bereave.
Page 688 - Runs the great circuit, and is still at home. 0 winter, ruler of the inverted year, Thy scattered hair with sleet like ashes filled, Thy breath congealed upon thy lips, thy cheeks Fringed with a beard made white with other snows Than those of age, thy forehead wrapped in clouds, A leafless branch thy sceptre, and thy throne A sliding car, indebted to no wheels, But urged by storms along its slippery way, 1 love thee, all unlovely as thou seem'st, And dreaded as thou art!
Page 59 - The Sanskrit language, whatever be its antiquity, is of a wonderful structure; more perfect than the Greek, more copious than the Latin, and more exquisitely refined than either, yet bearing to both of them a stronger affinity, both in the roots of verbs and in the forms of grammar, than could possibly have been produced by accident; so strong indeed, that no philologer could examine them all three, without believing them to have sprung from some common source, which, perhaps, no longer exists...
Page 698 - Ye pine-groves, with your soft and soul-like sounds ! And they too have a voice, yon piles of snow, And in their perilous fall shall thunder, God!
Page 683 - Even now, methinks, as pondering here I stand I see the rural virtues leave the land. Down where yon anchoring vessel spreads the sail, That idly waiting flaps with every gale, Downward they move, a melancholy band, Pass from the shore and darken all the strand. Contented toil and hospitable care, And kind connubial tenderness are there; And piety, with wishes placed above, And steady loyalty and faithful love.
Page 729 - In the spring a fuller crimson comes upon the robin's breast; In the spring the wanton lapwing gets himself another crest; In the spring a livelier iris changes on the burnish'd dove; In the spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.

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